Tartarus Champion
by everlasting tiger
Summary: (adopted from ThatSpecialWriter) The Primordial gods who have been out of sight for eons decide to reveal themselves at a perfect time: when the world is chaotic. Percy Jackson, who has vanished after being banished to Tartarus, comes back to overthrow Olympus as Tartarus' champion.
1. It Started With a Dream

**DISCLAIMER** **:** With the exception of my own plots/OC's, etc.; Rick Riordan owns the rest (quotes, characters, etc.).

 **A/N** : The beginning sentences are by Christmascookie26; however, I delved from there and made another path. The idea is also by Christmascookie26, but it'll take some time before Percy can become Tartarus' champion. Thank you to ThatSpecialWriter and AngelOfTheGhosts, who allowed me to add my own ideas to this main idea. Hopefully I do this story justice! As some of you may know, "Tartarus Champion" was originally by Christmascookie26, but then AngelOfTheGhosts' friend adopted it, and now I adopted it.

* * *

CHAPTER 1: It Started With a Dream

It has been around six months since the Giant War. The horrible memories of Tartarus still burned in my memories whenever I closed my eyes. Annabeth seemed to be recovering, but I knew she was trying to forget it ever happened.

You couldn't erase it all, though. The smell of the smoke, the fire burning across your skin—the way you felt like death was slowly enveloping you, tearing away any hope and strength you had. I never wanted to experience Hell again, for obvious reasons. It was the first time I realised that I could lose everyone. If Annabeth ever died, I swear I would run away from this life. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. There are many near-death experiences, and when you get older, you risk even more.

I didn't talk to Annabeth that much, anymore. We allowed silence to grow between us, and when she left to visit her cousin in Boston, I realised that I didn't know much about her, at all. It wasn't the simple facts, like favourite colour or family, but what she was thinking. She kept things to herself mostly. I know Tartarus changed something, but I didn't understand _what_. If I tried to speak to her, even Iris-message; she'll say at the most five-word sentences followed by a blunt 'goodbye'.

I wasn't blind to know when I was being ignored. It hurt, a lot. I love Annabeth—I always will, but it seemed that sooner or later we will break up. Logically, I kept this inside my head. If I ever brought it up, Annabeth would probably look calmly at me, and speak like a shrink. _Do you want to break up? Is something wrong between us?_ She always seemed to figure me out, even though I didn't. Her reasoning will probably be I'm just going through a phase. Truth was there was no spark igniting. I felt like an overprotective brother rather than boyfriend. Gods, we didn't even get past third base. Not that making love matters most in relationships, but you can be bored with just hand-holding and kissing.

I haven't heard from Leo, either—the rest of the Seven and I assumed he was still alive, but just _gone_. Sometimes I wish I could be like him—escape, even just for a while.

One thought that made me angry at my short, miserable life was that I never chose this. I was practically forced to be in battle, hunted down by monsters if I ever left Camp Half-Blood. I envy you if your only worries are what phone you should buy, or when school is finally over - because I don't get a choice anymore. My fate is in someone else's hands.

* * *

I was in my cabin, that night, and as usual the nightmares wouldn't leave me alone.

My view changed to a much darker and eerie place—screams of torture could be heard over the contrasting sound of the river flowing.

There came a putrid, yet familiar smell that burned my nostrils. Sweat poured down my body, and it felt like someone turned on the place like an oven for 450 degrees. I immediately recognised my surroundings—the place that became my worst nightmare. Tartarus looked the same as I had last been in.

The hairs on my arms rose as I heard whispers; different voices talking at the same time that made my head pound. It came incessant and as I covered my ears, desperate to stop the ringing, the voices spoke in unison.

 _Perseus Jackson! We've waited for you to return. This is where you belong._

I rubbed my brow, and brandished Riptide from my pocket, ready to fight. This was only a dream, but I wasn't taking any chances.

 _Yes, Anaklumos. Good. It goes against its counterpart, ελαφριά κλίση._

My brain registered the word, and it spelled it out clearly in my head: 'light bent'.

 _We will unite you to who you truly belong with. Now hurry! You haven't much time._

"Wait! What the—I'm done with prophecies! No more." I could feel the ghosts surround, closing in on me. I felt trapped, and air was sucking away from me, my lungs burning without oxygen. " _S-Stop_."

 _This isn't a prophecy, Perseus Jackson. No, the Fates have nothing to do with the new uprising of Olympus. Soon there will be a new era, where_ we _will rebuild the world._

I began to slash through invisible forces, but Riptide made no contact. A hallow laugh entered my ears, and I felt a chill sweep through me. Choking, I collapsed to the floor, staring up at the endless pit. _Please, please._ Dread filled inside of me. I was dying in my own dream.

Before I could fully fathom this, my windpipe opened and I snapped my eyes open, looking at my cabin white ceiling.


	2. No Rest for the Wicked

**A/N** : I think I know where this story is heading now - I had to change the plot. So hopefully the updates are going to be easier and quicker. Thanks to everyone who reviewed/read/favourite/followed. To _moxaleine_ , I think the pace of this story might be strange. I'll try to not rush, since I know that time-skipping too much is confusing, and plot holes are bound to happen in a rushed story - but I am not fond of a lot of chapters. The most I could do is ten, which is unfortunate.

By the way, if there is anyone reading, do you have a certain pairing in mind for Percy? I settled on doing a goddess/god, but I want your thoughts.

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CHAPTER 2: No Rest for the Wicked

After I cleaned my cabin, which didn't matter that much since cabin inspections were pretty much given up on because of the war, I headed outside.

I saw Jason looking down at a set of blueprints in his hands, immersed. Ever since the son of Jupiter made a promise to Kymopoleia, goddess of sea storms, to build statues and get recognition, he's been busy getting it finished. We only talked a few times, which wasn't a surprise. He and Piper were going to Los Angeles with Piper's father eventually. As they talked enthusiastically about their trip, I couldn't help but feel envious of their relationship—it seemed so simple. Then I felt guilty, because they'll be happy for Annabeth and me if we went somewhere.

Deciding not to bother him, I went to the Dining Pavilion. Many campers wore the same expression: tired but happy smiles. They didn't worry—they didn't need to. I wonder if I looked the same as them, or something else entirely.

One person, however, looked exhausted and didn't try to hide this fact. Nico di Angelo was sitting beside a blond guy—Will Solace—and hardly ate anything.

I felt unsure about barging in on their conversation. But when I advanced to them, Will waved his hand invitingly. It was weird to see the son of Apollo and son of Hades hang around. They looked like total opposites; contrasting like night and day.

"Hey, Percy! How's it going?"

"Good. I'm really hungry, though."

"Yeah." The Healer's eyes brightened. "How about a toast to the months without any prophecies?"

"I'll drink to that," Nico said. He fiddled with his metal fork, looking as if he was considering stabbing his scrambled eggs to death.

I had my goblet filled with blue liquid, and plate filled with blue pancakes. Suddenly, a wave of sadness washed over me. Nostalgia was one of the worst feelings ever. I haven't visited my mom and Paul. I didn't know how to face them—they were worried, but how could I explain everything that has happened?

"You look terrible," Nico said to me.

"So do you."

He shook his head. "Yeah, but not as much as _you_."

"Seriously, I'm fine. The war is over." My words did nothing to convince the son of Hades, but he did begin to eat. I poured maple syrup over my pancakes, and grinned in spite of myself.

 _You're drowning them._

I could hear Annabeth say that; I could see her hanging over my shoulder, her grey eyes sparkling with amusement. She rarely smiled after we left Tartarus. Not genuinely, at least.

 _Hey, I'm a Poseidon kid._ _I can't drown. And neither can my pancakes._

Will coughed, transferring me out of my reverie. "Uh, Percy? Your elbow is in your food."

"Right." I hastily wiped the food off with my napkin.

Nico looked at me in concern. He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind, taking another bite.

When I ate a bite of my food, it tasted lukewarm and soggy. The sweetness was too artificial, and I choked it down before taking a sip of sprite.

* * *

My wrist felt sore after I trained with other half-bloods. My opponents were mostly Malcolm, son of Athena, and Clarisse, who took it far too happily pulverising me. It was a good challenge, but since Malcolm wasn't that good at sword combat, it was easy to beat him. Clarisse and I matched each other with certain skills, but I noticed she could fight better with her spear rather than a sword. She wasn't as fast with reflexes.

In truth, I didn't like being back in my cabin. Not only was it lonely, but it felt unwelcoming. As soon as I hit my bed and fell asleep, there will be unpleasant dreams just waiting for me. My aching body and exhaustiveness won out, though.

* * *

 _I saw a dark figure with a black cloak watching up on the hill of Camp Half-Blood. His face was concealed from the hood, but I could see a cruel smile playing across his lips._

 _The camp itself was in full havoc. Many demigods were dead, and screams and the clang of weapons were heard through the chilling air. Magical forces flashed through the air—gods, monsters, titans—practically everyone that was dead and not._

 _A Titan, one who I never wanted to see again was yelling, "Surrender and join our side, or be killed!" His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as random campers dropped their weapons in defeat. Kronos... he was back._

 _I glanced around, and saw Annabeth fighting for her life. She was defending against many monsters, stabbing a Minotaur and then kicking a hellhound aside. "Percy!" she screamed._

 _I opened my mouth to reassure her - to go to her side; but realised I could only watch. My gaze shifted over to the figure on the hill, who starting flying through the air. His dark wings were outstretched, and it was like watching in slow motion._

 _Even though I couldn't see his face, I felt recognition. Where did I see him before?_


End file.
